The Spell of Knowledge
by SweetG
Summary: -AU, Remus/Sirius- Feathers are quite romantic. But they only exist out of God's love for senseless beauty. Feathers are white on them, meant to verify their purity, to proudly announce it to everyone lucky enough to catch the glimpse of an angel.


Feathers are quite romantic, upon close inspection and a few hundred years of reflection. The only glaring problem with them is their lack of practical purposes, given the fact that they don't occupy themselves with the task of helping in the flying process. They just exist out of God's love for senseless beauty.

The same happens with humans, is what he believes.

Pretty, but incredibly useless in the grand scheme of things.

Well, still: romantic, ethereal looking. So very white, and so very soft.

He had tried to stick to those thoughts for so long.

Before, he'd go around completely forgetting about their existence for entire days and weeks (impossible as it may seem, since they are attached to the back of his waistline), but on days when he got called upon the mortals for guidance, or for a suitable mediation from the above, the childish excitement of the humans would remind him that there's a substantial proof of his eternity sewn to him in the form of stark white wings.

Feathers are white on them, meant to verify their purity, to proudly announce it to everyone lucky enough to catch the glimpse of an angel. Nobody cares.

(That should've clued him in, the way some angels would disregard assumptions of white and pure and _good._ He, being the way he is, should've thought of it a little more.)

Since the collision between them all (between the inhabitants from the Heavens, and those from the Hells below), it no longer seems to matter. God looks, for the majority, like a useless sod that makes them participate in unfunny games that make for more suffering of those stuck in them than anything else in his search for a greater good ('why would He abandon His creations and the make us fabricate hopes for them, and why can't we save them, and why, and why, and why.')

.

More and more of the youngsters are cutting their wings off. He has witnessed the brutality once or twice. The flowing blood, the pain, the pallor that comes over skin that is usually flushed in an imitation of other living creatures. He has seen the looks of madness that takes over their faces, looks of utter craziness for a second or two. Then, they will start talking about truths and knowledge that they have forever been denied and laugh in something akin to pure mirth. Then they leave.

That happened to Regulus. Under the influence of stronger voices than that of God (or at least that's what he says) he saw fit to fix for one of the neutral demons to cut his wings. Sirius couldn't think that he would stand to watch as it happened to Regulus, that mutilation, but he also couldn't let his perceived brother -born from the same wholesome thought, as they were- go through that madness on his own. So he stood at his brother's side as it happened, still as a stone but lending all the support he knew how to give.

'Besmirching a faithful soul' is what some of the others call it. Sirius, ever the rebellious one, didn't see how a few admittedly pretty feathers kept one faithful and in the path of God's desires.

Then Regulus ripped Sirius' beliefs in two.

Blood dripping down his legs, a look so crazed it hurt to look at, Regulus said to him, "we think of freedom but we are all placed in a gilded cage. He talks about big plans but he is but a kid with a new toy. He speaks of kindness, but his words are senseless vomit, when he partakes in a machine of endless suffering.

All because he's bored and lonely and he likes it!

There is no greater good, there is not a bigger picture.

It's all so clear now, brother. All so clear."

That was the last time Regulus set foot on their territory.

Something within Sirius followed suit.

"Demons are infiltrating us, there must be something we can do to stop them from corroding our people." Is what James says, always the fighter.

"I think our wings are senseless." Is what Sirius answers.

James looks taken aback by that answer, but Remus -so observant, so rational, so quiet where they were always boisterous and so rational when they all spoke of their hatred for Hell and its people- takes Sirius' hand and squeezes, in a silent 'I know'.

That's when Sirius knows that Moony will be gone soon, and that he'll follow. Because he can't not. He hasn't got James' innocence anymore.

(Sirius' only worry is whether James will join them or hate them.)

"Maybe we are not all prepared for the painful truth, but I know that the so called demons will somehow get those who are not to be so, in time." Moony says on the night they decide to amputate their wings.

"I just hope that this one plan is better than God's." He answers, thinking about Regulus, about changing something he doesn't understand but fiercely wants to for the better, and about the lost symbolism of white feathers.


End file.
